


Tussle

by AsteroidMiyoko, DSK1138



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Dom/sub, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting, Injury, Knifeplay, M/M, Patching each other's wounds, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension, Sort Of, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, fighting straight to sex, listen two warriors grappling with each other is hot, rough then soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsteroidMiyoko/pseuds/AsteroidMiyoko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSK1138/pseuds/DSK1138
Summary: After being pent up in the brig for two days, Whirl needs to blow off some steam. His temper gets him into a fight with Cyclonus, but when hot frames start to wrestle, fighting turns into something else entirely...
Relationships: Cyclonus/Whirl (Transformers)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Tussle

**Author's Note:**

> So, Miyoko and I have had this RP running for a while, and I decided to adapt the first part of it into a fic. Words cannot describe how much I love this pairing. All of Cyclonus's lines were written by Miyoko, they are legit a genius and the best Cyclonus ever!
> 
> Enjoy!

_CLANG!_

The sound of metal slamming against metal rang through the corridors of the Lost Light. Whirl pulled back his servo, staring for a moment at the sizable dent he’d left in the wall. The metal still vibrated with the force of his blow, a nice picture of how Whirl was feeling. His own little masterpiece, no signature needed. His work spoke for itself, after all. Broken glasses and cracked walls were all just arrows pointing to the Lost Light’s designated psychopath. A calling card of another one of ol’ Whirlibird’s rampages.

His latest piece of work had earned him two days in the brig, and he had nothing to show for it but spite.

He didn’t do well in cages. Never mind the fact that he’d spent a good chunk of his life in one. Magnus treated him fairly, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of memories that Whirl would frankly rather forget, and since he was still banned from Swerve’s for the rest of the week, he’d have to turn to his second tried and true way of forgetting: violence.

Maybe if he was lucky, they’d come across some hostiles during their next trip planetside. Damaging property was fun, but it was nothing compared to _fighting_ . What Whirl _really_ needed was a good ol’ fashioned brawl.

He turned to leave and nearly jumped out of his plating when he saw Cyclonus standing there, watching him. _Great._

“What the hell are you looking at?”

Cyclonus glanced pointedly between Whirl and the wall. "Are you trying to lengthen your incarceration?" He asked, dryly. "Because that is certainly an effective method."

"What, are you gonna tattle on me to Ultra Magnus?" Whirl scoffed, narrowing his optic. "Not like he won't figure out it was me anyways”.

He eyed Cyclonus up and down. He was a frustratingly difficult bot to read, and something about that always put Whirl on edge.

"Go ahead then, go and tell him,” he prodded, stepping into Cyclonus’s personal space. “Win some brownie points and maybe he’ll forget who you really are.” The sentence was punctuated with a shove.

Cyclonus wasn't unsteady on his pedes, but he did have to visibly shift his weight in order not to be pushed too far.

"It doesn't matter to me if you get yourself locked up for the rest of this trip or not. But I would prefer the ship remain in working order." He took a step forward, optics bright, servo twitching. "So, calm down or I will make you calm down."

A maniacal laugh escaped Whirl's vocalizer. "Oh, you'll _make_ me, will you? I'd like to see you try." His plating flared with excitement. _This_ was exactly what he needed. A fire glowed in his optic, and for the first time all day he felt somewhat alive. "If you think you're mech enough, that is."

And then, just to goad things along further, to make sure he had Cyclonus just where he wanted him, Whirl let his servo loose, deliberately striking the wall with another loud _clang_. He glared pointedly into Cyclonus's optics as he did so, challenging the other mech to react.

Cyclonus moved in a flash, grabbing the offending claw and yanking it from the wall before Whirl could hit it again. "Enough!"

Though he didn't grab Whirl hard, there was strength behind the grip. This would be _perfect._

"If you _insist_ on losing a fight today, then I will oblige you," Cyclonus growled. "In one of the training rooms, not here where you will doubtless be embarrassed."

"Oh, you're on. See you there, horns."

Whirl kicked off into his alt mode, blasting through the corridors with reckless abandon. His day had just gotten a _whole lot_ better. Truthfully, whether he won or lost didn't even matter to Whirl. He just wanted to _fight_ . To lash out at the world for all of the stupid slag it had put him through. Sure, he'd love to give Cyclonus the aft-kicking of his life, but even if Whirl lost, at least he could begrudgingly say that he’d lost to one of the actual _good_ fighters on this damned ship.

And he knew with certainty that Cyclonus was one of the few who wouldn’t hold back. What was the point of losing a fight if you didn’t have a good beating to show for it?

Cyclonus had followed him on foot, and Whirl hovered in his alt mode while he waited, transforming and dropping down in front of the other mech once he arrived.

"You ready for this?" He shifted on his pedes, getting into a fighting stance. He was unarmed-- Magnus had taken his weapons when he was locked up-- but he didn't have to let Cyclonus know that. His rapidly building adrenaline would be enough to get Whirl through just fine, anyways. "If you want to establish some dumb rules or something, now's your chance. But I might not follow them."

"No rules needed." Cyclonus assured. "I'll try to stop before mortally wounding you. I have no interest in being tried for murder."

Whirl laughed as if he'd been told some inside joke. He wouldn't try to kill Cyclonus either, for a number of reasons, but he didn't say it out loud. He wondered if Cyclonus would use his sword, or if he would fight without weapons, too. He decided not to think about it too much. The best tactic was to not even give Cyclonus time to think about it either. He charged, diving straight at Cyclonus, catching him around the middle, and slamming them both to the floor.

Cyclonus kicked up with one leg to try and dislodge him, and Whirl grunted as it made contact with his own. _Motherfucker._ Had it left a dent? He had no idea, but it sure fragging felt like it.

He was shifted off of the other mech, but was quick to lunge again, trying to get in a strike to Cyclonus's helm with his claws. It wasn't the most effective way to hit someone, but there was still strength behind his servos, and his main concern was still making sure the other mech didn't have time to draw his sword. One of his claws came into contact with Cyclonus's arm, which he assumed had been raised to block him.

Whirl was just starting to think that this was getting too easy, when Cyclonus managed to hook a leg around him, and suddenly he was flipped onto his back and his servos were pinned to the mat. He tugged hard in an attempt to free himself, but Cyclonus's grip held tight. A strike to his middle knocked the wind out of him for a moment and his vision blinked. He growled in frustration, bringing up his knee to retaliate. At the same time, he wiggled his hips a little, trying desperately to shake the other mech free.

Cyclonus’s grip faltered slightly as his center of balance was rocked, and With another growl, Whirl shook his hips again, this time using his legs as leverage. He managed to throw Cyclonus off of him, and rose to his pedes.

The leg Cyclonus had struck earlier was still hurting, and he tried to keep his weight off of it. If only Whirl had a weapon on him…

But then again, it was kind of fun to use their bare servos on each other as they grappled and fought for control.

"C'mon, I thought you could hit harder than that," he said, trying to egg the other mech. He _knew_ Cyclonus was incredibly strong, and Whirl wanted desperately to see the full extent of that strength, even if he was the one on the receiving end. _Especially_ if he was the one on the receiving end.

"You are correct." Cyclonus launched himself forward, using his jet engine for just a moment to shove Whirl into the wall with an arm against his helm. The copter's frame hit the wall with a loud crack. Cyclonus pressed his advantage, bringing his other elbow down swiftly on the glass of Whirl's cockpit, which crackled into a spiderweb pattern. One more hit and it would definitely shatter.

Whirl was able to regain focus just enough to slide out of Cyclonus's grasp before the jet could hit him again. He let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a whine of pain. "Yep. I knew you could hit harder." He lifted his servo, swinging at Cyclonus's helm again and this time getting a solid hit right to the side of it. "But guess what. So can I!"

Cyclonus's helm made a satisfying crack as Whirl struck it, and he could swear he saw energon. A familiar rush hit him at the sight, further building upon the bloodlust he'd already had pent up for the past few days. He moved to catch Cyclonus's hand as the jet attacked again, but at the last second the other mech dodged! _Shit._

It was Cyclonus's turn to laugh, a deep and rumbling sound, as his kick met Whirl's leg with a sickening crunch. Whirl couldn't bite back his cry of pain as he collapsed to the ground. _Damn, that was a good move._ Striking a mech where he was already injured. It was something that Whirl himself would have done.

His leg was completely broken, and his odds were looking worse and worse by the second. So, in a desperate move that was truly and absolutely the kind of dumb stunt Whirl was known for, he tore one of the rotors off of his own arm. It hurt, but not as bad as it would hurt Cyclonus. The jet hadn't gotten out of range yet, and Whirl took advantage of their proximity, swinging the jagged edge of his rotor towards Cyclonus's side.

"Aaarg!!" The rough edge of a rotor tore into the side of Cyclonus’s abdomen, cutting deep and catching on several wires. He sank to one knee, servo pressed against the energon-seeping gash as he stared at Whirl with wild optics.

He stumbled over to loom at best as he could on his servo and knees, and Whirl had to admit, it was still pretty intimidating. "I thought we _weren't_ trying to kill each other?" The jet growled, glaring down at him.

Whirl laughed again, but it came out more like a whine of pain than an actual laugh. Ok, so maybe he hadn’t meant to draw so much energon with that cut. But if anyone could take it, Cyclonus could, right?

"You're tough enough to take it. Or did I overestimate you?" Cyclonus was nearly on top of him now, and something strange rumbled in Whirl's frame.

All too late, he recognized the heat blooming in his array. _Oh come on! Why now?_ But as he glared up at Cyclonus, watching the energon seep through his opponent's digits, he couldn't deny it made for an attractive sight.

"Why haven't you used your sword? Do you actually _want_ to win or are you just giving me the runaround?" He didn’t need Cyclonus to baby him like he was some soft little flower… like he was Tailgate.

But he didn’t need to doubt- Cyclonus gave Whirl what he wanted. With a snarl, he reached back and drew the sword, bringing it forward to press the blade against Whirl's neck. It sliced shallowly, shaving away a few layers of the soft plating there. A bead of energon ran down his neck, and Whirl drew a shuddering vent.

"Is this the kind of fight you want?" Cyclonus demanded, though his voice was somewhat fainter than usual.

For the first time that day, Whirl found himself thoroughly shut up, unable to form words even if he tried. Instead he just swallowed, gazing up at Cyclonus through a narrowed optic. And then, as if to punctuate what he wasn't saying, his engine gave a soft rev.

Cyclonus froze, optics scanning Whirl’s frame, analyzing. It was hard to hold still, especially with the electric feeling of _need_ that was now crackling through Whirl’s frame, but he made himself wait, made himself be patient. Cyclonus experimentally settled his weight further on to Whirl's frame. The energy between them was so palpable, he almost expected Cyclonus’s blade to slice through that, too.

The sword on Whirl’s neck turned, flattening against his plating. Then, Cyclonus leaned in to drag his glossa along the cut he’d made. His engine growled as he lapped at the dripping energon.

Whirl’s array went wild. The rotor in his servo clattered loudly to the floor, forgotten. He tipped his helm back, exposing his throat completely. Cyclonus had a nice set of fangs on him, and he could easily tear through Whirl’s main energon line if he really wanted to. And Whirl had just rolled over and bared his throat to him.

"D- do that again," he choked.

With a groan, Cyclonus leaned back down to mouth roughly at the shallow cut, glossa snaking out again to draw up the spilled energon. And then, almost unbidden, he kept going, sword still pressed hard against Whirl. He let his dentae drag up Whirl's neck until he almost reached the junction with his helm, and bit down hard.

The sound Whirl made was not at all dignified nor intimidating, but he was beyond caring. Cyclonus certainly didn’t seem to mind. He smiled triumphantly, bringing a knee up to press hard against Whirl’s array.

Whirl shivered, whining at the firm touch. He slowly reached up, gentle enough not to startle Cyclonus into tearing his throat open, but forceful enough to get his way, and took Cyclonus's wrists in his claws. Insistently, he guided the other mech's servos to his own hips.

Cyclonus allowed himself to be guided, tossing the sword to the side and splaying his servos wide on Whirl's hips. He watched, mesmerised, as the energon from his own wound smeared from his servo onto Whirl's plating.

He lowered himself to be flush against the copter, the contact of their rapidly heating panels dragging moans from each of them. Cyclonus returned to Whirl's neck, biting, licking, and every now and then, something dangerously close to a kiss.

Whirl shivered again, his frame betraying him, or so he pretended, anyways. But a part of him wondered if maybe this had been what he really wanted all along. To be put in his place. And more than that... to be noticed.

Whirl was _definitely_ feeling noticed as their arrays brushed against each other. He wiggled his hips a little bit, trying to create friction, but it wasn't enough. He wanted _more_. He moved his servos from Cyclonus's wrists to his shoulders, gripping tightly. It was tight enough to be a threat, a reminder that Whirl was still very dangerous and very willing to put up a fight if things went south. He didn't know how convincing he was, though. He wanted this bad, but he knew he'd have to play it cool. Give Cyclonus a bit of a fight. He successfully battled the urge to open his panels, even though his frame was aching for it. This was still very much a battle, and Cyclonus would have to win it if he wanted to see more of Whirl's frame.

Cyclonus kissed him, right on the underside of Whirl’s helm, and he left a trail of smaller kisses along the prongs around Whirl’s optic. He shifted one servo from its place on Whirl's hip to the cables that connected the copter's hip and leg, and dug a talon in just enough to scratch. Whirl jerked, hissing at the sharp tug. It hurt, but it was the good kind of hurt, his sensitive cables amplifying both pain and pleasure.

Cyclonus pulled back to look at him, optics filled with a primal kind of hunger Whirl had never seen in him before.

"I'm going to take you right here," he growled.

"Do it," Whirl whispered, but it came out less like the challenge he'd intended and more like a plea. He spoke again hastily, trying to correct his tone. "That is- if you think you're mech enough."

"Then _open_ ,” the jet murmured, voice low. Cyclonus let his digits ghost over the copter's interface panels with deceptive gentleness before tracing the same path again with talons extended. Whirl keened, and the sound must have gone straight to Cyclonus’s array, because the next instant his panels slid aside and his spike pressurized against Whirl’s abdomen. With a shake of his helm, he leaned back down to mouth roughly at Whirl's shoulder. " _Now._ "

Oh. _Oh._ That voice did things to Whirl. His valve tingled as Cyclonus’s claws continued to trace the seams of his panel. He was debating whether or not he'd try to hold out longer, but once he got sight of Cyclonus’s spike, he had no chance.

 _Primus_. Cyclonus had one good looking spike. It was of substantial size, and Whirl could easily imagine his valve stretching around that length, being filled until he could take no more. And those ridges, if they struck his nodes just right…

A second nip to his shoulder reminded him of the command he’d been given, and Whirl let his own panel shift aside, displaying both his spike and his valve. Lubricant trickled out onto the mat beneath him.

Cyclonus hissed, evidently pleased with what he saw. He took hold of Whirl’s spike, exploring the ridges and texture of it. He pressed forward, letting their spikes slide together. Whirl whined at the friction, the feeling of ridges catching on each other.

With a grin, Cyclonus released their spikes in order to lift Whirl and push him back towards the wall. Whirl’s engine revved. Being manhandled always got him turned on, and the position he was in only made it more intense, trapped between the wall and Cyclonus’s overpowering strength.

He tilted his helm a bit, dragging the prongs around his optic up the side of Cyclonus's helm in some twisted version of a kiss. They left behind scrapes of blue paint, which Whirl paused to admire for only a moment before whispering once more into Cyclonus's audial, and this time Whirl thought he succeeded in making it sound like a challenge. "Get your spike inside of me right now."

"Oh I intend to," Cyclonus replied, voice husky.

Without wasting another moment, he hooked his servos around Whirl's legs and hoisted him up. He paused only long enough to make sure they were aligned correctly before pulling the copter down onto himself in one smooth motion. His engine turned over loudly, and he moaned openly into the crook of Whirl's neck.

" _Unmaker_ , Whirl."

“Nghh,” was Whirl’s dignified response. It was a perfect fit, thick and long and pressing against every wall of his valve and leaving no room for escape. Not as if Whirl planned on going anywhere any time soon.

With a tight grip on Whirl's legs, Cyclonus rolled his hips forward, once, twice, and then as deep as he could go. Whirl’s optic fogged from the sensation. It had been ages since he'd been taken like this, so deeply and thoroughly. He instinctively flexed his claws, digging in a bit deeper where they rested on the other bot's shoulders.

“C’mon, frag me hard! Use me however you want!” _I need you._

Wait, where had _that_ thought come from?

Cyclonus groaned and rocked against him. "What I want-" he began, but his vocoder clicked as it was forced to reset a couple of times. "What I want is to leave your paint all over this wall, to- ahh- to leave dents on the insides of your legs and fill you until you can't walk."

Metal scraped together as Cyclonus thrust into him with a renewed thoroughness. Something wet was coating Whirl’s thighs, but he couldn’t tell if it was spilled energon from their wounds or lubricant. It was probably both.

A particularly rough thrust hit his ceiling node, making Whirl see stars. His back arched against the wall and he squeezed his legs tighter around Cyclonus's waist.

“Oh, frag yes, Cyclonus! Please, please-” Whirl had always been rather loud during interface and this time was no different as he let out a string of moans, pleas, and more than a few profanities.

He slipped one of his claws up to grip Cyclonus's neck from the back, shoving the other bot's helm closer to nuzzle against his own. Cyclonus’s vents ticked against the side of his helm. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Whirl’s optic widened. Had Cyclonus just called him beautiful? _There’s no one else here, dumbaft_ . _Of course he’s talking to you._

He might have objected to the compliment, but he found himself distracted as Cyclonus kissed a line across Whirl's helm until he met the junction of his neck, and bit down hard, splitting cables underneath his sharp dentae.

Whirl bucked, valve squeezing hard around Cyclonus’s spike as overload claimed him. Static spat from his vocalizer, but he thought he heard Cyclonus murmur his name as the jet pressed him hard against the wall and released deep inside of him.

The two of them slid to the floor, riding out their overloads together. Whirl was vaguely aware of Cyclonus arranging them so they were seated more comfortably, then the jet experimentally rolled his hips forward, dragging his spike against Whirl’s swollen nodes. The copter tossed his helm back and moaned, answering Cyclonus’s movement with a rock of his own hips.

At some point in their joining, Cyclonus’s valve cover had opened as well, and Whirl shifted one of his claws towards it, but hesitated right as he reached the rim.

"Do it." Cyclonus rasped, as he rolled his hips slowly. He wrapped an arm around Whirl’s back and pulled him close.

Whirl's hesitation was eased at Cyclonus's insistence. The gentle thrusts, their closeness, and the sounds of slow venting all created an encouraging atmosphere. He prodded gently again at the soft folds of Cyclonus's valve, but went deeper this time. He kept his touch light, so as not to scrape the walls too hard with his blunt claw. The next time Cyclonus thrust into him, Whirl answered it with a thrust of his servo.

Cyclonus’s grip on his back tightened, and Whirl thrusted his servo again. Cyclonus’s engine purred, and he reached his other servo to wrap around Whirl’s spike, gently dragging his digits up and down.

"Whirl..."

It felt strange to hear Cyclonus speak his name in this context. Strange, but not bad. Whirl obediently prodded his servo further, trying his best to rub it against Cyclonus's nodes. It wouldn't feel as delicate as it would coming from a different mech, but it seemed like Cyclonus still was enjoying it.

Whirl’s hips twitched as Cyclonus continued to stroke his spike. He was rapidly building to another overload, but he didn’t want this to be over yet. He wanted… well, he wanted something that he couldn’t have.

Cyclonus seemed to sense the shift in Whirl’s demeanor, and with a shaky vent, he pulled back to look Whirl in the optic. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he pressed a soft kiss next to the left prong of his helm. "I have you."

Whirl choked back a sob. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Before he could say anything, his overload did the talking for him. Transfluid sprayed from his spike, coating both of their bellies.

Cyclonus followed close behind, groaning as his valve rippled around Whirl’s claw. He pulled Whirl close, kissing along the side of his helm and whispering in Old Cybertronian.

Whirl's frame went limp, all of the adrenaline from their fight and their intercourse now drained out of him. Cyclonus was holding him, saying things-- _nice_ things. Feelings that he'd long kept hidden started bubbling to the surface. He'd kept them buried by being angry-- pits, that's what this whole fight was even about! But all the anger had been drained from him and... well, now Whirl was scared.

He thought he’d known how this encounter was going to end. They’d both overload and Cyclonus would shove him away, clean up, and forget the whole thing had ever happened. That’s how it _always_ was, with Whirl. He was a good lay, but not good for much else. Definitely not good for the softness and gentleness Cyclonus was treating him with now.

"W-why?" He choked out. "Why are you still here? Holding me like we're..."

Cyclonus shifted, seemingly surprised by the question. "I'm here because I wish to be," he said, honestly, quietly. "I'm holding you because I wish to be." He raised a servo to trace carefully around Whirl's optic casing, and kissed him again. "Does that...displease you?"

"N- no," Whirl stuttered, having calmed a little from the touch. "I'm just surprised. I thought you hated me." He dipped his helm, pressing it into Cyclonus's shoulder. "I don't hate you as much as I pretended to," he murmured against the other mech's plating. "Actually, I'm starting to think I don't hate you at all."

"I...do not hate you either." Cyclonus said, with a little smile. "Not in the least." He held Whirl, cradling him close for a long moment before speaking again. "Whirl, accompany me to my hab so that I may fix your leg and rotor."

Whirl grunted. He would be happy to stay right here for a long time, but Cyclonus was right. They needed to get repairs, and besides that, they’d make for an… er, interesting sight if someone stumbled upon them like this.

"'Kay. But only if you let me patch that cut. You know, I make a pretty good field doc. Don't tell Ratchet though. He's all 'That's not proper sanitation for an infected wound!' I mean, if I didn't bleed out, then it's a win in my book. But, uh, anyway- lead the way."

He pulled off of Cyclonus's spike, and already felt a kind of emptiness. It didn't last long, though, as he helped the other mech to his feet. Whirl threw an arm around Cyclonus's shoulder, trying to balance their weight so they could support each other without furthering their wounds.

"I would appreciate any help or advice you can give. I am...not a good field medic. My bedside manner is, as I'm sure you can imagine, somewhat less than appealing." Cyclonus grinned lightly.

They managed to avoid crowds as they made their way to the hab, not that anyone would be overly surprised to see the two of them in a state of disrepair.

Whirl hummed pleasantly as they entered the hab. It was clean and sparsely decorated, but comfortable.

"You got any first aid supplies?" He set Cyclonus gently onto the berth before sinking down to join him. "I got some bandages in my subspace, but that's about it." He pulled out said bandages, along with a cloth and some solvent.

Gingerly, Cyclonus went to a storage chest and pulled out a little first aid kit. He opened it on the berth and settled back in next to Whirl. "Gauze, nanite gel, more solvent, a soldering iron, though it's not the best quality."

He poured some of the solvent on a cloth and, with a glance to make sure it was ok, ran it over the cuts on Whirl's frame. When he got to his neck, he took extra care, and with only a little hesitation, ran his thumb over the cut his sword had made. He leaned in and kissed the side of Whirl's neck.

Whirl gasped, twitching slightly, but he tried his best to play it cool.

"That's an unorthodox way of healing someone." Then, as if afraid that Cyclonus would think that was a criticism, he added, “B-but I think it’s working.”

Cyclonus chuckled, continuing to clean Whirl’s frame and bandage his wounds. When he got to Whirl's leg, he hesitated. "Whirl, you may need to get one of the medics to help with this. I can try to set it, but..."

Whirl sighed. "I'm gonna get in trouble for fighting again if I go to one of the medics. Ratchet's already let me off the hook way more than I deserve. Go ahead and do what you can, it’ll be fine. I've survived worse."

He pulled his injured leg onto the berth, propping it on Cyclonus's lap so he could get a better look. "Would it be ok if I crash here for a bit? It might heal faster if I stay off of my feet. Not to mention Magnus is going to be after me for punching the wall. I'm not looking forward to that conversation."

"Yes, of course you may." Cyclonus smiled wryly, smoothing a servo over Whirl’s leg. "Somehow I think I should keep my head down too. We'll camp out here until they've forgotten about us."

"Sounds like a plan to-" Whirl was cut off as his leg was snapped into place. He whimpered a bit at the suddenness, but once the surprise had worn off, he shifted his leg and found he was able to move it much more easily.

"That... feels a lot better. Thank you. Seriously. 'Not a good field medic' my aft. I'd let you patch me up any day." _At the very least, I'd have a pretty sight to look at while being doctored._

"All right, your turn now." He took one of the cloths and some solvent and began carefully cleaning any remaining energon and fluid off of the other mech's plating. He worked from the pedes up, pausing momentarily as he passed Cyclonus's thighs and interface panel. His servo tingled a bit as the memory of having it buried deep in Cyclonus's valve returned to him. He shook his helm and continued working. Soon he reached the gash in the other mech's side. He couldn't help wincing a bit. _I'm sorry,_ he wanted to say, but what good would it do, at this point? Clearly Cyclonus wasn’t mad enough about it to let it stop him from ‘facing Whirl into the wall, or bringing him back to his hab to dote on him like-

"You're quite good at this, yourself." Cyclonus murmured, interrupting Whirl’s thoughts. "One would think we'd gotten ourselves into these sorts of situations on a regular basis." His optics narrowed in amusement.

"Ha! Us, danger? No way!" Whirl let out a short laugh, but his optic was squinted in concentration as he finished patching Cyclonus's wound. It took some extra effort to do such delicate work, but he'd had lots of practice on himself.

"Well, there you go. Seems to be the worst of it." Whirl surveyed Cyclonus's frame for any other damage, then brought his gaze to meet the other mech's. "Oops, missed a spot! Hold still." He reached out to wipe away a smudge of energon on Cyclonus's cheek. The act felt strangely intimate.

"There." Whirl's voice was almost a whisper. "Perfect."

"I don't know about that," Cyclonus replied, quiet as he caught Whirl's servo before he could draw it back. Not breaking his gaze, he kissed along the edge of one claw. "I enjoyed your company. I would like to... enjoy it again sometime. If that is not of interest to you, please tell me now."

"I want that!" Whirl blurted out. Then, as if realizing his outburst, repeated, quieter, "I want that. I like your company too."

The fear was still there. What if Cyclonus was lying to him, or decided later that he’d misjudged and couldn’t handle Whirl? It wasn’t as if the same thing hadn’t happened before. This _thing_ , whatever it was between them, was still new, in its own sort of protoform state. A good frag does not a relationship make, but maybe, with time…

He shook his helm a bit, blinking his optic sleepily. "So... uh, where do you want me to sleep? I mean, I'm totally fine with the floor. I slept on floors for several centuries. I’m basically a pro."

"Don't be ridiculous, the berth is more than large enough for both of us." Cyclonus rose to retrieve two blankets. He handed one to Whirl. "So long as... so long as you're comfortable with that, of course."

Whirl laughed, flustered. "Yeah, sure. S’no big deal. You look warm. Nothing worse than a berthmate with cold feet. Sorry, bad joke."

He wrapped the mesh around himself and climbed further into the berth, lying down gently. Cyclonus was right, it was really roomy. Just the perfect size for two rather large frames.

He waited for Cyclonus to lay beside him, hesitant about whether or not he should wrap his arms around the other mech. He decided against it, but still lay close enough for their legs and chests to be touching, face to face. Whirl _never_ slept with his back to another mech, but this time it was more because he wanted to see the expression on Cyclonus's face than out of suspicion that the other mech would actually hurt him in some way.

Cyclonus’s optics glowed gently in the dark, and his lip plates curved up in a slight smile. He looked… happy.

"Well, don’t I get a goodnight kiss?"

"Would that please you?" Cyclonus rumbled, but without waiting for an answer, he put a servo on the copter's helm and drew him in for a slow kiss on the edge of his optic casing. And then another one right next to it.

Whirl’s spark fluttered, and he blinked his optic happily. Aw, slaggit, he really had it bad.

"I think that pleased me okay. But maybe one more! Just to be sure."

Cyclonus was happy to oblige.


End file.
